The Warning
by sasha1600
Summary: Gibbs has to break up a fight. Warning: spanking of adults. Don’t like? Don’t read!


**The Warning**

**Summary**: Gibbs has to break up a fight. **Warning**: spanking of adults. Don't like? Don't read!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em

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A/N: This is part of my discipline series and builds on a larger plot arc, but should make sense on its own. Set early Season 5. No tags to specific episodes.

This was actually written ages ago, before AislingK's brilliant story It's All Fun and Games, and was waiting patiently on my computer for my storyline to catch up to the right point for me to post it. Apparently NCIS dfic writers sometimes think much alike! Anyway, we've already shared a laugh about the similarity, and there's a detail here that's essential to my larger plot arc, so here it is.

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**Warning: this story contains physical discipline of adults. If you have a problem with that, click on that 'back' button now. You've been warned.**

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Gibbs stepped out of the elevator, a coffee in one hand and an oversized Caff-Pow! in the other. As he got closer to Abby's lab, he could hear her voice even over the eardrum-perforating music.

'Guys! C'mon, guys, stop... please?'

He stepped into the lab and stopped short, momentarily stunned by the sight of his two field agents grappling on the floor. Tony, sporting a cut lip, was straddling McGee's prone body, his right hand drawn back for a punch. McGee had a death-grip on Tony's other wrist, and had raised his forearm in front of his face to deflect the blow.

'HEY!'

The two miscreant agents froze.

'What the HELL is going on here?'

Tony scrambled off of Tim, who dragged himself upright. Both men stiffened, standing almost at attention and staring straight ahead, refusing to meet his eyes.

Gibbs circled them slowly, looking them up and down, checking for any further damage, before stopping directly in front of them. He took several deep breaths, struggling to control his anger.

This was more than just a breach of Agency protocols; this kind of behaviour between teammates could have a serious impact on their ability to do their jobs. Partners had to be able to trust one another absolutely, to know without doubt that the other would back them up, to rush to the other's defence without hesitation, even at the risk of their own lives. Any kind of hostility or lingering resentment between them could prove dangerous, or even deadly; even if they would never consciously put the other in danger, the slightest doubt or reluctance, a second's difference in reaction time, could be enough for the consequences to be disastrous. It had been the same in the Corps; in combat, unit members had to be closer than family.

Gibbs smiled a bit, thinking of the analogy. There was a sort of 'sibling rivalry' going on between these two lately, and he did feel a bit like an outraged father about to give the 'you don't hit your brother' speech.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet but firm.

'I don't know what that was about. I don't care what that was about. There is no excuse for you two to be fighting like a couple of kids in a school-yard brawl. Is that clear?'

Tim and Tony stole glances at him out of the corners of their eyes, still refusing to look directly at him. They were both clearly unnerved by his tone.

'Yes, Boss,' mumbled two voices.

'Who started it?' he continued.

He wasn't surprised not to get an answer. Basic school-yard honour-code: do not rat on the other guy. He'd been here often enough with his Marines.

'WHO. STARTED. IT?' he barked, knowing that his 'pissed-off Gunny' voice would produce a response.

'He did!' came the reply. In stereo.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. He was somewhat amused by the reversal of the scene as it had usually played out in the Corps, but he wouldn't let them see that.

'First, when you pull that crap, you're supposed to both _take_ the blame, not point the finger at the other guy. And second, you do _not_ play that game with me. Now, WHO. STARTED. IT?'

He glared at Tony, making his suspicions perfectly clear.

To his surprise, it was Tim who spoke up quietly.

'I threw the first punch, Boss. But Tony provoked me.'

Gibbs shifted the direction of his glare for a long moment, then cast an appraising eye over the two agents. Tony was shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, looking nervous. Tim either hadn't worked out yet that they were going to be punished for fighting, or had gotten over his terror of being spanked. At any rate, he wasn't hyperventilating this time. At least, not yet.

It had only been a matter of time, really, before he had to punish both men, together. Tim had become more confident lately, and less willing to put up with Tony tormenting him; at the same time, he was more likely to be a willing accomplice rather than a reluctant participant in whatever Tony suggested.

The situation was complicated, however. He needed to treat them the same, or it would inevitably produce greater tension between them. But he also needed to respond to two very different personalities in a way that wasn't unfair to either of them. Plus he'd promised himself that he would never use his belt on Tony, after once witnessing the younger man's panicked reaction when he'd had to remove his belt to use as a tourniquet on an accident victim. And Tony would likely not react well if he used the paddle he'd made him make himself, on Tim. But Tim had never even seen the heavy leather strap he'd inherited from Mike Franks, and it seemed too severe an implement to deal with what he figured was probably the first non-work-related fist-fight of the kid's life. He wanted to make damn sure it was the _last _fight, but he didn't want to over-react and punish the sensitive younger man so harshly that he'd be too overwhelmed to learn from the experience.

Needing a moment to decide how to deal with them, Gibbs turned away, towards Abby, who was standing with her back pressed against one of her work benches, watching with an expression of mixed fascination and worry.

'Why didn't you call me?'

'Gibbs! I didn't have time! You got here, like, fifteen seconds after it started!'

Talking to his bubbly Goth lab-rat gave him sudden idea. They had _behaved _like school-boys, after all... He stepped closer to Abby, smiling warmly as he reached for her throat.

'Can I borrow this?'

His fingers deftly unbuckled the collar she was wearing. Unlike her usual spiked model, this one was smooth, unadorned leather. She looked at him curiously, her eyes widening when she realised what he wanted it for.

'Abs, why don't you go see if Ducky has that tissue sample ready for you.'

'Oh, Palmer will bring… OH! Right. Going.'

Gibbs waited until the doors swished shut behind her before turning towards his two delinquents.

Standing in front of Tony, he demanded, 'Hand.'

Tony immediately stuck out his right hand, as if he were expecting Gibbs to shake it. Gibbs batted it away impatiently.

'Left hand. Palm up.'

Realising what Gibbs intended, Tony complied, more slowly this time. With his left hand, Gibbs tipped Tony's chin up, forcing him to meet his eyes as he brought the strip of leather down across his palm with a resounding _crack!_

Surprised by how much it hurt, Tony hissed and drew his hand back, instinctively squeezing it under his armpit, trying to press the sting out of it.

Gibbs turned to Tim, who had already followed the instruction he'd given Tony, holding out his own hand, and had squeezed his eyes shut.

'You're _left_-handed, Tim.'

Tim opened one eye and looked uncomprehendingly at his boss for a moment, before holding out his right hand instead.

'Look at me.'

With visible effort, Tim looked at his boss with barely controlled panic and obvious embarrassment. Having to meet his eyes was almost impossible for him; he had a hard enough time dealing with being punished, without having to see the disappointment in his mentor's face _while_ it was happening.

Like Tony, he gasped in surprise and pain when Gibbs strapped him.

Tony whimpered when Gibbs stepped in front of him again, desperately hoping that he wasn't planning another round but knowing that they weren't likely to get off with a single lash, as painful it had been. Reluctantly, he held out his hand again and gritted his teeth. The hard stroke with the makeshift strap on his already reddened hand felt as if it were stripping the flesh off his palm, but he could see that the skin hadn't been broken.

Tim drew in a shaky breath and tried to steel himself. Gibbs waited until he met his eyes, then warned him not to move before bringing the short strip of leather down twice in rapid succession. Tim's eyes watered as he choked back a strangled moan.

Tony clutched his hand to his chest and took a step backwards as his boss approached him once more. He'd experienced far more painful punishments at his boss's hands, but, like Tim, he found having to _watch_ disconcerting. Being able to see the strap hurtling towards his unprotected hand was frankly terrifying. And he disliked both seeing Gibbs's expression and knowing that Gibbs could see his reactions. He hadn't been punished since Gibbs had taken him over his knee for an emotional spanking, acting more like his father than like his boss. This was less intimate, but the eye contact made it more personal than his usual at-work punishments.

Gibbs gave him a steely look and waved his hand in a 'come on' gesture. When Tony didn't move, Gibbs growled his name in a tone that made the younger man more afraid of what would happen to him if he didn't obey than he was of the strap. He held out his hand for a third time, accepting another burning lash with a yelp.

Tim swallowed hard and presented his palm for further punishment. Again, Gibbs gave him two hard strokes with no chance to recover between them. Tim's anguished sob echoed through the lab.

When both men had caught their breath, Gibbs spoke in a low, deadly tone.

'You ever strike one another again, and you'll be feeling leather on bare skin somewhere a lot more personal than your hands. Got that?'

Without waiting for an answer, Gibbs dropped Abby's collar next to one of her computers, and retrieved his coffee from the work bench where he'd left it.

As soon as Gibbs left the lab, Tony seized the oversized soda that Gibbs had brought for Abby and prised the top off of the giant cup. He grabbed several of the ice cubes that were floating in the fizzy liquid, sighing with audible relief as he clutched them in his still-stinging hand. He held the cup out to Tim, who took it gratefully and likewise fished out some of the ice before putting it back on the table.

'You don't think... he wouldn't really...' Tim asked, desperately hoping that he might have misunderstood.

Dripping water from the rapidly melting ice, Tony replied simply, 'Yeah, Probie. I think he really would.'


End file.
